


untitled valentine’s fic

by spacecleavage



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Online Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6000475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacecleavage/pseuds/spacecleavage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>valentines day meeting does not go to plan</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled valentine’s fic

**Author's Note:**

> my attempt at a non-smutty valentine's fic

Clarke flicked back through the messages again, the third time in as many minutes, she’d been sitting in the restaurant for ten minutes now waiting for him to arrive. The message still stared out at her, almost judging her for arriving twenty minutes early. She hadn’t been able to help herself, her apartment had been cleaned from top to bottom, floors vacuumed, every surface wiped, dishes washed, toilet scrubbed, even her sheets had been changed. Every time she’d tried to sit down to read a book or watch some tv, anything at all, her stomach would come alive with butterflies and nothing she tried slowed her racing heart. She knew it was silly to be this nervous, but she’d been talking with Juba II for nearly eight months now, and the idea of meeting someone she’d met online was both terrifying and exhilarating.

She could still remember their first interaction, she’d been on this history forum trying to find information for an assignment (she might’ve loved Art History, but assignments on early Roman Empire art and how it reflected on the political climate, were not her forte). She’d asked her question and the detailed reply, complete with sources not an hour later, had appeared. Juba II the screen name shone out at her and while she didn’t understand the significance at the time, she was soon coming to them about more than just the her Roman history questions. First they found each other on tumblr, then skype, telegram, and twitter. They began talking more and more, at first maybe twice a week, but then it went to every couple of days and then a message everyday and by four months in Clarke felt like her day was missing something if she hadn’t talked to him.

Neither had brought up where they lived until a month and half ago, when Clarke had mentioned a certain train line being down and ruining her day, Juba had complained that they’d missed the train because of the delays all over the city. It didn’t take them long to realise that they both lived in the same city.

It’d been their idea to meet for Valentine’s day. Clarke had been reluctant at first, but eventually caved when they’d mentioned that their only other plans was to waste the day away playing video games.

Clarke still wasn’t sure who to expect, they’d admitted they were about five foot eleven, with dark curly hair, and that they’d wear a red sweater to the restaurant. Clarke didn’t even know whether they were a guy or girl, not that it really mattered. She already liked them a lot, maybe even too much for an online relationship, how’d you start liking someone you meet online? Sure they’d connected in a heap of different ways but she’d done that before. Juba was different though, there was just this… spark (it sounded clichéd even thinking it), something that made their interactions about something more than just two people talking online.

Clarke replaced her phone on the table and wiped her hands across her soft pink dress, trying to make her palms just a little less sweaty.

“And I thought I’d be early.” Clarke heart just about stopped in her chest at the words. The deep, gravelly voice came from behind her left shoulder, it was vaguely familiar but Clarke was too busy turning her head to worry about it.

“Blake?!”

“Princess?!”

Bellamy Blake. Octavia’s older brother, her… she didn’t even have a word for him. What do you call someone who showed up at your friend’s party uninvited, preceded to drag his sister out of the apartment and yell at her that she was a selfish princess, to high on her pedestal to see who she crushed beneath her heels?

Clarke faced straight ahead, glaring at the water bottle on her table. Why’d he have to show up now? She was expecting Juba any moment, but she probably looked like an idiot, sitting at a table all alone… what if he thought her date had stood her up?

“Well if you excuse me, I’m waiting for someone,” she bit on the inside of her lip, praying he’d just walk to another table. She waited a good ten seconds, trying to hear any footsteps, but none came.

“Did you know Juba the Second was the King of Numidia and Mauretania? He married Cleopatra and Marc Antony’s daughter, Selene.”

Everything in Clarke’s gaze became unfocused except for a single drop of condensation on the water bottle, her heart dropped to her stomach and lump formed in her throat.

No, her mind rebelled, no, no, no, no. He couldn’t…How did he… She turned back towards him, she took in his dark, unruly hair and his red… his red sweater.

“Look, I know it’s a lot to handle but I’d still like to get some dinner with you,” Bellamy voice faded into the background as she stared at the scar on his top lip. How could Bellamy Blake, asshole extraordinaire and one of her best friends in the whole world be the same person? How did the jerk who tore her to shreds fit with the person who could always bring a smile to her face? It didn’t make sense that they were the same person. That’s it, it didn’t make sense. Maybe they weren’t the same person? Maybe it was just all a game for him.

She stood abruptly, speaking in a way that wouldn’t draw attention from onlookers. “Now that you’ve had your fun, I’m going to go.” He stood there shell shocked.

She let her feet carry her out the door, ignoring his voice calling behind her, growing ever closer. She just wanted to go home and curl up under her blankets, never to come out again.

“Clarke please,” he was still gaining on her, the pounding of his feet on the concrete.

“Please what Bellamy? Please wait so I can laugh at you?” Her eyes burnt as she walked, the wind blasting her face and nails digging into her palms.

“I don’t wanna laugh at you,” he breathed in big gulps of air as he met her pace. “I wanna talk to the girl I’ve spent the last eight months talking to, I wanna laugh at her jokes and tuck the hair behind her ears.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you,” she tried to rush past him, but still he kept pace with her.

“You don’t think I didn’t wanna run? The second I realised who you were, I wanted to get the hell out of there. But I didn’t, not because I’m not scared, but because I’ve been wanting to apologise to you for nine months. I’ve been wanting to meet the girl who made me smile on a Monday. And I know you’re scared, I know you don’t want to trust me. Not after Finn, not after Lexa. But Clarke please, I wanna take a chance on this, on us, even if we just become friends, I wanna be in your life because meeting you online is the best thing that has ever happened to me.” By the end of his speech she’d stopped walking, and was just staring up at him.

“I don’t know,” Clarke didn’t know what to say, what she should do. She took a step back.

He caught her hand. “Just come to dinner, and after that if you never want to talk to me again, you can block me on every platform.”

“I can do that,”

(Let’s just say, she didn’t have to block him on any, and maybe even added him on a few, with the caption ‘boyfriend’)


End file.
